Apr 16, 2017
Looking Finale Recap: Breakups, Makeups, And Maybe Sexual Harassment At Work
Last week on Looking, the gays’ relationships were all aflutter. Dom (Murray Bartlett) hurt Lynn’s (Scott Bakula) little feelings by having a little melt down pre-pop up restaurant opening. Lynn bolted. Agustin (Frankie J. Alvarez) acted like a total a-hole by secretly paying a male prostitute to do the deed with his boyfriend Frank (O.T. Fagbenle) in the name of art. And Patrick (Jonathan Groff) disrespected his boyfriend Richie (Raúl Castillo) on the way to his sister’s WASP-y wedding, sending him fleeing back to the wrong side of the tracks.
Did they make it all better this week? Only one out of three pulled it together.
Agustin spent the season finale sulking about high on what the kids call Molly for reasons we are way too out of it to understand. Do they moll people because they are so touchy-feely on the stuff? Don’t know.
Frank is washing that man right out of his hair. If they are truly over, we will miss Frank so much because he is great and we love his no nonsense, cheeky attitude. You dis hot Cheetos? Fuck you. You pay a hooker to fuck Frank? You’re out.
There’s no wah wah wah, I-don’t-know-what-to-do-garbage with this guy. Leave your key under the mat and get the fuck out, bitch. But wait. Agustin feels like they should talk about things. Oh, you want some commentary? How about you’re nothing but a mediocre artist, spoiled rich boy? Is that enough talk? Are we done yet?
Yes, that ought to wrap things up. No loose strings there. But he snatched said drugs out of the side table before heading out, for sentimental reasons, or maybe reasons that are just fucked up. Probably the latter.
Patrick on the other hand, chooses the weird, lurky approach. When Richie doesn’t answer any of his calls or texts, he heads to his boyfriend’s place of work, the barber shop, because, you know, that kind of thing always goes even better with an audience.
Richie keeps his cool, takes him aside and explains that he did not pick up the phone because he doesn’t want to talk to the guy who is clearly ashamed of his ethnicity and the zip code he calls home. He needs the much-maligned “space.” TTYL. Maybe.
After arriving late to work, Patrick quickly heads to the rooftop for a samich. His hunky British, gay boss Kevin (Russell Tovey)—who laid a drunken smooch on Patrick during the little-bit-louder-now drunken dancing portion of his sister’s wedding—tracks him down for a little groveling.
Patrick, who is otherwise consumed by his own drama, isn’t sweating the whole sexual harassment thing. He’s not even excited that his former crush is throwing himself at him, despite having a hot boyfriend himself.
Dom, Dom, Dom. We really root for Dom. He’s growing on us, mostly because he’s committed very little assholery thus far. After his mini freak out last episode whilst trying to pull together a mini version of his peri peri chicken dream restaurant for one night only in the bones of a divey Indian-Chinese restaurant that’s been sitting empty, he was not very nice to the hand that has fed him: financier, possible silver foxy boyfriend Lynn.
The candles are lit, the place settings set, and there are not many customers and absolutely no Lynn. No calls. No updates. No nuthin’. So Dom comes up with a flower question, Lynn’s forte, and calls him. Voicemail.
Then all three of our gays have a mini reunion at Dom’s big bash. Being loyal friends, Agustin and Patrick attend the opening despite their lives falling apart. Agustin even ups the drama by holding up the walls outside, looking like a chemically-altered homeless person on the sidewalk below the window seating. But then he is a chemically-altered homeless person, so in hindsight, that was fitting.
“Are people trying to give you change?” Patrick asks after spotting his friend down and out. Agustin proceeds to feel him up and kiss Patrick like a grandma to make everything better.
Dom’s gal pal Doris (Lauren Weedman) greets the duo at the door, immediately explaining that she is freaking out just a teensy bit because no one seems to have arrived yet. “Anybody who is anybody doesn’t eat until like 10:30 p.m.,” Doris says not that convincingly.
Then the anybodys who are anybodys start piling in, but there is still no Lynn.
Newly single, miserable Agustin looks for company in jilted Patrick as his friend explains his day getting dumped, too. “Maybe it’s over,” Agustin says way too cheerily. If you recall, he was a major jerk to Richie from the moment they met at the park, telling Patrick he was “slumming.”
Agustin even goes so far as to push Patrick to distinguish what it is that he likes about Richie. Thankfully Patrick has a list much more convincing list than the one he rattled off to his overbearing mother at the wedding reception the night before, which includes sexy armpits he wants to lick.
Patrick’s phone starts blowing up, but it’s not Richie. It’s that ol’ hunky Brit, bothering him again.
“You know you want to have a thing with him,” Agustin says wisely but with ulterior motives. He hates Richie for being poor.
Lynn arrives with someone who is possibly a date, one who says Lynn has been gushing about Dom’s food all day. And just like that Dom finally admits to himself that he is interested in Lynn for way more than business.
“Did you see that schlub of hotness with him?” Doris asks.
Doris corners Lynn to tell him how much his opinion means to Dom, encouraging some positive feedback. “Dom’s worth it, he’s just worth it,” she says, not really talking about the restaurant, before walking away. Aw, that gal pal is golden.
Then Agustin starts working his selfish angle again. “Can I have my old room back?” he asks Patrick, promising Saturday night “Golden Girls” marathons aplenty. Kevin calls again, Agustin grabs the phone and answers before handing it to Patrick. There is a work emergency, something lost on a server or something computer geeky. He’s got to go in to the fancy video game place with chairs that double as swings.
Back at the office, Patrick finds Kevin sitting in the dark drinking beer post-computer victory, which was clearly just a ruse to get Patrick alone. “OK, then what am I doing here?” Patrick wants to talk about the kiss still, but this is no ordinary apology.
“Do you know how much effort it takes to be around you every day?” he asks not really looking for an answer. “I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s becoming a real fucking problem.”
The problem is that they both have boyfriends, but you know how that goes. A woman at Heathrow airport once wisely warned us that all British men cheat. That has held true in our experiences so far, so we were not that surprised when the next thing happened.
Kevin lays a wet snog on Patrick again and things heat up to boiling despite Patrick’s apprehension.
Within seconds we see Kevin’s naked ass, on top and then we cut to the after sex weirdness.
“So now what?” Patrick asks.
“I don’t know, Patrick.”
And this is where we felt a little icky. Post-coitus, Patrick looks like he feels a little used and dirty. Now if this was a male-female work scenario, we would all be up in arms, and so we reminded ourselves to feel up in arms for Patrick, too, because he, too, is not a piece of man meat. Kevin nonchalantly put his clothes back on like he had just gone for a jog to clear his head.
“You nailed it,” Lynn says after dinner at Dom’s as he is heading for the door. “I knew you would.” Lynn tries to leave, but Dom needs more closure than that.
“I know the reason you were hands off is because I was kind of an asshole yesterday,” Dom says. “I did not want the night to end without having a chance to… I think I need to apologize to you.”
Lynn though isn’t having it. He says the night should end their working relationship. And then Dom goes in for the kiss again and this time is not rebuffed.
Patrick walks home looking a little cock-shocked, and surprise, surprise, Richie is waiting outside his apartment. Cringe.
“When I feel disrespected, especially by someone who I care about, it just does something to me,” Richie explains. “My pride is something I am working through. It makes me see things twisted. I had to just go and shake it off. I know I am self-conscious about where I am from. You are, too. You don’t think you are, but you are. I think we took things a little too fast. You rush everything.”
“I like you, too,” he tells Richie.
Richie is pretty close to falling in love, he tells Patrick. “But I am not going to do that to myself if you are not ready,” he says wisely. “And I don’t think you’re ready.” Patrick cries. Richie kisses him on the cheek. And thank gayness that Patrick didn’t tell him what had just transpired back at the office. We don’t want to see Richie hurt anymore than he already is.
Patrick heads into his apartment solo.
Except he’s not alone. There’s a fucked up homeless person in his bed watching “Golden Girls” on his laptop thanking him in his own way for being a friend, a pal and a confidant.
Season One, finis.